Scenes from the dark city
by Adolphus Black
Summary: Here's a collection of scenes I have in mind, all of them from the Batman universe. Unfortunately, I can't find time to build a long story, but I enjoy these little moments, like small drops of a big unfinished ocean.


**Light and dark**

The laughter echoed its way through the room. It was a small room, with white walls and a white floor. Except for the shadows, those were all over it. A blinding white light came from the roof. He remembered it blinked a couple of times before hurting his eyes. Slowly, he came back to life and started to think. Thinking was painful at first. His head hurt. Worse, it burned. Where am I was the first question to pop in his head when he saw the dance of shadows that displayed in front of him. What's going on was the second. Then he repeated the same question but named hell. That's when the laughter started.

James Gordon had been a cop in one of the most dangerous cities in the country. He had seen dead bodies, men kill their own family with their bare hands…but none of them ever _enjoyed_ the pain. Not like he did, anyway. The thing is, nothing could have prepared him for that laughter. It hurt his very soul the first time he heard it, and now, ten years later, it still felt the same.

He tried to escape, but found himself unable to move. He was tied to a small, wooden, chair placed in the middle of the room. There was no way he could get out of there in time. Any effort was useless anyway, the nightmare had already begun. From the darkness, a pale shadow appeared. A red smile on it's face, yellow teeth in his mouth, the shadow came closer and closer, enjoying every trace of terror in his prisioner's eyes. Suddenly, the room was full of some kind of sweet scent, but it felt sick, as if it were filled with poison. The shadow talked in a happy slow voice. It wasn't loud, in fact, it was barely a whisper.

-Hell, commissioner. You ask me where the Hell are you, and I answer you a simple word. Hell.

The smile grew a bit more. The man, the beast, whatever you might call it, came closer to Gordon's face and talked again.

-Or at least that is what I intend to create.

He got up with a bounce and continued to speak. He moved here and there, made strange gestures with his hands and never gave up that abominable smile on his face. James Gordon, who could't barely move, didn't find any strenght or reason to say anything at all. He just stared at the laughing ghost, listened to his deathly promise.

-I know he will find me, you see. I also know that he'll understand my plan. He'll see the dilemma I'll put on his table, and you know what? His strenght, this time, will become his weakness.

He laughed quickly and continued.

-See, commissioner, I can feel his pain. I know he has a lot of scars under that terrible mask of his. I'm sure he wouldn't stand letting down somebody, anybody. Imagine if it's a friend. So here's the deal I got him. He has two hours to find the detonator of the biggest gas bomb that's ever been built. If he does, he'll save the city. If not, he'll let two million people die with happy faces and a huge last laugh.

Another quick laugh, another thrilling speech.

-But at one point he'll figure out the little surprise. At one point he'll know that it's either the city or you, commissioner. Of course, for a guy like him, the logical choice is the city, but…leaving you behind…oh that would hurt him so bad, you see…

With a theatrical movement, the pale shadow did as if it was a tragic thing to deal with. Then he replaced the sad face with the usual smile and carried on.

-But there's something stronger then his ethical sense, you see. It's his conception of himself. With that mask, the guy thinks he's a god, that he can do anything…more than that, he thinks that he _has_ to do anything. Impossibles are a failure for him. And so, he'll try to do both things. Save the city…

At this point he had turned his back on Gordon. Then he made a quick rotation and pointed his finger at the commissioner's face.

-…and save you. He might succeed, you never know. But then again, he'll never have the guts to kill me, so I'll just wait patiently until the next time. But you know, Jim, I won't lose without a price, or at least not alone.

The pale face came closer than ever. He could see the madness draw itself in his dark green eyes, feel the sick sweet scent of his mouth. In the end, the words fell like thunder on James Gordon.

-If I lose, my friend, I'll make sure to leave another scar on his tortured soul.

Kill him softly, that is. The plan was destroying whoever hid under the figure of a dark angel, a guardian of Gotham's thinest hopes of happiness. Meanwhile, the pale figure laughed harder than ever. It looked insane, more than happy. Gordon felt terrified, because all he could do was wait and hope for another miracle.

He closed his eyes and saw it shape itself. The miracle was a creature, dark and light at the same time. A beast, but a beast that fought for good. A thinking creature, something that not only owned the night but _was_ the night. A bat moved its wings inside Gordon's imagination. He prayed.

Prayed for him to carry some kind of joker under his sleeve


End file.
